


Nostalgic memories

by The_Royal_Petals



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: British Transport Police, Bruce - Freeform, Copel City, F/M, Fanfiction, Fury, Ghost Train, H.Y.D.R.A. - Freeform, I hope this will be a slow burn-, Jessica - Freeform, Main character doesn't know who the avengers are, Marvel - Freeform, Memories, Nostaligic Memories, OC is involved in the story, Some weird shit is gonna happen, Story, Train Station, Trains, Trigger Warnings: Suicide mentions, Weird man, Weird man who keeps disappearing, What is that weird train?, Why do I have to do so many tags?, fanfic?, jason - Freeform, mcu - Freeform, mysteriousness, police officer, self harm mentions, soul train, steam trains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24155263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Royal_Petals/pseuds/The_Royal_Petals
Summary: A young woman by the name of Keira, has worked in Copel City for most of her life, dispatching trains and assisting those who would need help. It was a dream job for her since she was a child. One day, a male caught her attention, showing signs that he needed help. Being the selfless person she is, attempted to help, only to scare him moments later. The distress only caused her to worry for him, diverting the spare time of her job to look for him. Until one day an incident occurs, causing the station to shut down.Now, wandering around without a job, what's her goals now?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1 - The Flying Scotsman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Flying Scotsman has entered the train station for the first time in months, exciting some children and putting station staff on guard. The day goes smoothly until Keira gets told of a male who had entered the station, very distressed. 
> 
> Who is this male?

The station soon filled with people; young and old. Crowds stretching to each end of the platform, surrounding the famous locomotives, The Flying Scotsman, that stood proudly on the tracks, chugging along. Bubbles of steam danced into the air as if made to disappear in a magic trick. Clicking and clanging excite the children as the driver releases an explosion of hot steam from the vents, the sound piercing through the air, deafening those who are close to it. Chattering and flashes of light fill the air as one or two enthusiasts push through the army of people, ignorant stares and thick anger lingered around them, a storm cloud hung above their heads as grunts and profanities erupt out of their mouth.

I watch as two old women march towards me, eyebrows furrowed and hands clenched into fists. A baton rested in my hand, ready to engage in action if anyone stepped out of line. I march down the side of the platform, ignoring the women, and shouting out at those who stood over the yellow line that lay close to the platform edge. Many stare at me with shock, while others respect the orders and stand back, respecting the safety regulations that the station staff have put into place.

This is my usual job as an officer from 06:00 to 21:00, keeping everyone in line, as people like to test the boundaries of the rules. Those people soon regret their decisions when they get barred from the station.

Once I finished my first round, I rose my white baton into the air, signalling the driver to move. Within seconds, a piercing screaming whistle erupted from the engine as it dragged its carriages along with it, bidding farewell to the enthusiasts behind; the train chuffed into the distance, turning a corner before vanishing. Civilians soon disperse as an ordinary train enters the station. Then it was empty again.

I wander down the platform, weaving through occasional chairs that watched over the tracks. My baton clipped back onto my belt as I entered the officers' mess-room, locking the door shut as I take a seat on a chair close to the door.

A soft sigh escapes my lips as I allow the quiet to relax me from the screaming from earlier. Why can't people listen to the rules? That would make my job much easier.

Shortly after, a woman named Jessica entered the room.

"Keira! There you are, why aren't you on the platform?" she asked, picking up a cup of coffee from the table.

"I've been walking up and down that thing for," I pause checking my watch, "four hours. I need a break." I say with a smile tugging at my lips. Jessica chuckled as she took a seat next to me, taking out her notebook and setting it beside me. "What have you been up to?" I ask, leaning to the side and looking at her.

"Well, outside some individuals have come over to me, reporting that there's this man walking in and out of the station. No idea who he is, but he looks distressed." Jessica's tone soon changes to a concerned one, pushing over her notes to which I take and inspect. "Alex and Josh talked to him, but other than that, he's still acting weird. He was staring at the steam engine for a while." Jessica explained.

I nod in response, reading over her notes on the description of the man. Estimated 5'9", male, looking to be in his 40s. A beard. Rather fit and healthy, red shirt and a dark green jacket. Jessica wrote nothing else. "When did he first appear?" I questioned.

"No clue, the reports had just come in earlier." She says as she took her book off me and returned it to her pocket. Rising, she let out a small breath before looking down at me. "I'll check on him. If he isn't there, I'll come back." She adds on before exiting again.

Later, I'm back on the platform, checking the time on the large overhanging Victorian clock. 18:00. Above, the night sky marched in like snails, and icy winter air soon rushed in. My legs turned to jelly, only to freeze soon after; feeling as though one intense movement could snap them. The station soon became scarce with people, one or two dotted around.

On my final patrol, a man in the distance stood next to an old history board, eyeing it and inspecting it with curiosity. His hands seemed to clench as he paced, head shooting up as he saw me approaching, stopping dead in his tracks.

The darkness made it difficult to see; only a few lights have come on by that time. To my dismay, he was standing in a spot where only minimal light could reach him. Why was he still here?

"Hello! I couldn't help but come over, how are you?" I asked, a surge of happiness rushing through my veins at having been able to talk to another person as Jessica had left earlier. The sudden interaction seemed to startle him.

"Where am I? What was that thing doing here?" The man spoke. His voice was quiet and confused. He avoided eye contact.

"That was a steam train; The Flying Scotsman, to be exact. It comes here every few months. This was the first time this year it has come because of complications. Many people around here like to see these locomotives as something to pass the time. Is that what you were doing?" I asked, hoping to spark a friendly conversation with him. He really seems interesting.

"I... don't know. I saw it as it helped me remember something. I want to remember... but I can't." He finally looked up, pain and suffering resonating in his eyes. His face covered in distraught and his shoulders, tense.

"I'm not sure how I can help you, sir. Would you be able to tell me your name?" I asked, pulling out a journal as his figure froze. Tension immediately rose, the air thickening to the point it was hard to breathe,

"I...."

"Sir? Are you okay?" I asked, backing up a little. The man soon became threatening, as if I flipped a switch. His posture shifted, shoulders dropping, and arms thrown into the air, hands clutching his head. Anguish slapped him in the face. "... Sir?"

"S-shut up. Shut up! I DON'T KNOW MY NAME OKAY?!" He screamed. The walls echoed his pained scream, horror rushing after it as it sent a shiver down my spine. A depressing and horrible aura resonated from him, his body language begging for help.

"Hey... it's okay. Don't tell me your name, I don't want to stress you out any more. Could there be something I could do to help?" I approached, he backed up, fear now in his eyes.

"You can't..." He spoke sadly. Before he could say anything else, he was off, running out of the station as I stood helpless.

Who was he?


	2. Chapter 2 - Psychology

Once I had gotten home, leaving behind the small dystopia I had encountered, I softly closed the front door and let out the longest sigh I've achieved this week. My body leaned against the wall, slumping down for a moment, getting my thought in order; trying to understand what the hell happened. The warmth from the fireplace runs through the room; wrapping around me and engulfing me into a warm and reassuring hug. The grey, warn orange bricks sent nostalgia throughout the room, sending recollecting memories through my mind of my childhood. The times when I'd gallop and chase after my older sister, Lavender, almost falling flat onto my face, laughing it off before she chased me. I could almost see my child self running through the kitchen door again.

No matter how much nostalgia distracted me, my mind couldn't help but beg for me to remember the male from earlier. Remembering the distressed face, he had worn, the anxiety and shaking he emitted before fleeing. What could he have gone through? Why was he wanting to look at the stream trains? The only significance I could've guessed was it as associated with the past. Is the man delusional?

Pushing myself off the wall, I enter my living room as a delicate and enchanting singing echoed throughout the room. My body seemed to follow it, leading me towards a beautiful woman lying on the couch, reading off a piece of paper which I assumed to be lyrics. Amusement tugged at my lips, turning it upwards as I quietly grasp at my clothes which lay on the arm of the sofa. Fail. She didn't notice me.

Time for mission impossible. The clothes, the enemy. Me, the assassin.

Step one, I crouched, avoiding any sighting of me, ducking behind the couch as if was a bush I had to hide behind, avoiding enemies spotting me. I inched closer, through the grass, which is the fluffy carpet. Pressing my body against the wall of trees as I shimmied towards the prize.

Step two, I stayed quiet. I held back a large breath, preventing me from making too much noise from my breathing. I was like a tiger hunting for its prey. Any noise could alert the woman, ruining the mission to get my clothes. The volume increased and began to turn more angelic, becoming the harsh winter air which I had to survive. The wind picked up, making it easier for me to make loud noises; I didn't risk it.

Step three, I had to distract the enemy. On my left, a pen lay on the floor, staring at me as if it was begging for me to throw it across the room. It was my arrow. Reaching and picking it up, I aimed, closing one eye as I eyed my target; the TV. I drew back my imaginary bow and let go, shooting the pen through the air, splitting through like butter before somehow turning off the TV with accuracy. The woman's singing stopped, causing her to bolt up and stare at the TV in curiosity.

"What the hell?" She muttered, standing and investigating the TV.

Step four, take clothes. Once the woman neared the TV, I jumped up, snatched my clothes and bolted towards the door. I thought I was successful, standing in the hallway, smugly staring at my clothes as if I had won.

"Keira?" The woman's voice spoke.

Ah shit.

Reluctantly, I turned around, the smugness soon fading to a dog being caught by its owner.

"What the hell are you doing?" She asked, folding her arms.

"Getting my clothes?" I responded in more like a question.

"While acting as a secret agent on a mission? Keira, just take them. I was frightened half to bloody death! How did you turn the TV off with your pen? That's almost impossible. Wait, don't tell me. Are you an Avenger?" She joked, folding her arms with a smirk as I shook my head in response.

"Well, it takes practice and skill to turn a TV off with a pen. How else do you think I occupy myself at work if I'm not screaming at people?" I chuckle as I check the time. "I'll quickly get changed and then I'll tell you what happened. You will love this story." I tell my sister before rushing upstairs, thudding my way up them. I swear my neighbours can hear me.

Entering my room, I toss my officer jacket and shirt before slipping on my black fluffy shirt which hugged my torso as if it was a dress fit for a princess. Once I had gotten the rest of my clothes, I pull out my notepad from the trouser pocket before heading downstairs, my mind now focused on the man from earlier.

Now, sitting next to my sister, I took in a deep breath before opening the first page of my small book. Lavender's gaze shifted to a worried one, hand resting onto my leg as the air thickened once again. The man was very disturbing... My insides quenched, shifted and oozed around, my heart pounded, threatening to jump out of my chest.

"Keira.... What happened at work?" Lavender's angelic soft voice spoke, her eyes falling onto the book as she read the notes. "A man? What did he do? Did he hurt you?" I shook my head.

"No. He didn't. My coworker, Jessica, had told me about the man. I encountered him on the last few hours of my shift. He didn't tell me his name, as he had screamed at me he didn't know; but he looked really distressed. It sounded like he needed help. I want to help him, Lav. But I don't know how to. I'm no psychiatrist or therapist. I'm just a police officer. What do you think I should do?" I asked her, my hands becoming stiff as impuissance rushed through my body; I stare, becoming fixated on the book.

Lavender looked up at me, taking the book away and setting it down next to her. "Keira, that man sounds like he's trying to find something out. Trying to understand himself. There can be something you can do, but I don't think you'll be up for it. It takes a lot of mental strain." She warned, leaning back onto the sofa as if she was the therapist and I was the person seeking help.

I stared at her. Was she challenging me? "Lav, I've been through more than you think. I handled training from the army, the police and had my fair share of verbal abuse from the public, I'm sure I can handle it." I spoke with a confidence that someone would knock down.

Lavender shook her head, raising a finger and standing up. "Hold on, wait there for a moment. I need to get something." She spoke, leaving and sprinting upstairs before thuds and bangs come from the ceiling. Within seconds she returned with a book named 'Psychology'.

"Mental Health." She summarised, opening the book on 'how to deal with mental health in other people'. "When helping someone who seems to go through mental health issues, be careful about how you do it. A million and one things can go wrong. It can affect you without knowing when helping someone. Listening to their rants every day, listening to what they've been through; yes it can help them, but it can put a strain on you. It can make you question a bunch of things, which they have named 'Anxiety'." Lavender explained as she flipped over the next page. "What you just described could be PTSD, but it could be something else, like depression or split personality disorder. We don't know as you have gotten little information, yet. But I'm sure you can find some stuff out. Take this and read it. If you need help, please come to me. But that guy, since you had approached him and offered help, he might talk to you. Remember, don't force him to talk to you. Okay?" Lavender smiled, handing over her book and setting it on my lap, closing it.

"Wow... thank you. Sis. That really does mean a lot. I'll read it later, and I'll take it to work with me tomorrow. Thanks for the help." I thanked her, reaching over and pulling her into a hug. "I love you, sissy," I spoke, resting my head against her. "I love you so much. Hopefully, I can help him." I told her, pulling away from the hug.

"Keira, I know you can." She spoke before turning the TV on as I glanced down at the book, reading through it again.

Later that night, I sat on the side of my bed, staring out of my window at the night sky. Splatters of stars twinkled within the dark sky; through the mist of purples and blues emerging from other galaxies millions of miles away, sending peace and calm through the children who wished. My eyes catch a small light in the distance growing brighter and brighter as if I was looking at a falling flashlight up a well. Then, the floor rumbled, a quiet scream falling and getting louder... and louder... and louder. The moonlight, with the lights of the train, reflected of the silver tracks, making its presence known. The deafening freight train screams past, the loud manly scream soon heard with someone's name afterwards, incoherent to hear. Death, souls and supernatural drag along with it as dark, evil energy flowed off it. Why was this familiar?

There, in the distance as the train soared past, flashing red and blue synchronised lights began thundering towards the tracks, only to stop at the lowered barrier stopping it passing. Soon after, the train drove into the distance; the barriers rose as the ambulance screamed past again with its sirens. That person would not survive... Stupid train.


	3. Chapter 3 - She sure had a blast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another ordinary day in Copel City until a heavily guarded train approaches. 
> 
> We need help....

It was now a Thursday, five days after the encounter of the strange man. The staff and I at the station had only seen him once after the first encounter, and not a single time afterwards. Deep down, I couldn't help but worry for him. Was he doing okay? Did he give up trying to go into the station? Those thoughts circled my head every day. Jessica had told me a few times to ignore it as it was affecting my job. Every day, I'd ask questions about the man, only to be shot down by her. Now, I don't bring it up anymore.

The station once again was quiet, only the leaves and the rolling of bottles and pots kept me company as one or two people waited at the side of the stops. Time seemed to drag on, the trains taking their time to get here as to mock me for my mistakes. Jessica was sitting at the bottom of the platform, chatting away at two colleagues who were occasionally glancing in my direction. Rolling my eyes, I continue to pace the platform, glancing once or twice at the tracks for the next train.

Then the announcement rang through the station, announcing its hourly message. 

"The train approaching platform 4 does not stop here, please stand clear from the edge on platform 4." This was one of my favourite messages as a freight train would stroll in, taking its time through the station. Pulling it through the station was a diesel or an electric. I could predict what sort of engine would arrive, this time I knew I would be wrong as in the distance, a purple dot appeared, now being slower than usual. 

Soon the purple turned to black, a white circle forming on the front with a bird with bold lines. On the sides of the train, armoured guards walked alongside it. Thick plating, around 4 inches thick, surrounds it. If someone wanted to hide something, it would definitely be in there. 

From behind, two familiar guards march in, wearing all black uniforms, wearing the same logo was on the train. What the hell was going on? The guards held a stiff and stern expression, eyes narrowed into slits, guns rested against their chests as if they were protecting the queen. I could have sworn they worked for the grenadier guards, who are the queen's guard.

Then again, the announcement sounded.

"Please, can all Copel City officer personnel not interfere with this train. This is a high security operation. Members of the public must stay away from the train. S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel need to stand near the train." Who is S.H.I.E.L.D.? Why did the members of the public need to stay away, what changed suddenly to make all of this go super-high-tech?

aI turn to look at the bottom of the platform, Jessica and two other officers walked to the edge of the platform, the place where people can walk on the tracks; there a trespassing sign stood guard. Jessica turned around, back turned against me as her hand rose and a whistle blew. There, the trees seemed to dance as if it was shaking something out of it, squirming around to be free. Bushes seemed to rustle too. I had sworn I saw something poking out of the bush. Were people in them?

Turning around, Jessica had ditched her jacket, immediately donning a new one with a red logo, a skull. Before I could spot anything else, the loud rumbling of the train neared, shaking the ground and puffing more smoke into the air. Musky and dirty air filled my lungs, burning the inside, forcing me to cough my guts up. My head, a balloon, floated away, dragging lightheadedness with it. The train now was halfway into the station. I soon gathered my breath and followed the train, pulling out my phone to snap a picture.

I positioned my phone, moving it around to catch the main part of the train in the shot. Some guards' heads popped into the shot. Cute. Snapping the picture, I saved it in my gallery before returning it to my pocket, drawing out my gun to protect the guards. A small voice screamed at me they were good, but Jessica, something seemed off. 

As I neared the end of the platform, the walls seemed to cave in, floor warping below me, the sky soon becoming hazy; everything was swirling. People bolted away from the exit, screams and cries pierced through the air.

BANG. 

Blasts of hot air rush through the surroundings, throwing me harshly towards the ground. Extreme temperatures burned my suit, my ears rang as if someone banged against a triangle for far too long. Prolonged ringing seemed to last forever. My brain banged the walls to escape. Warm liquid dripped down my arms and cheek as pain blasted through my body.

BANG

There it was again, the heat hitting again, everything shook. My vision was blurry, my insides screamed in pain as small objects poked at my body. Then it rained debris. Dust falls on top of me like sand, caking the floor in front of me. I push downwards, attempting to rise from the floor. Instead, pain pulled my hands from beneath me, sending me crashing to the floor again. Again, I tried. I fell. Then again, and again. 

Frustration towered over me, smoke and steam rushing over me as darkness attempted to fill my vision. I look up. A few meters away, three figures' backs were facing me, stepping over logs, bricks, metal and burning wood that crackled and popped. Their voices were incoherent. It muffled them. 

Charging up my strength, I push up with all of my mind, grunting loudly as I shove a cracked brick, a metal sheet and a piece of paper off me. The train that was once there vaporised, the guards that once had been there, lay on the ground, screaming in agony. The three figures meandered off, ignoring the bodies around. Adrenaline rushed through my body, pain numbing, urging me to help the guards.

I reach the first guard, blood splattered over their face, the same bird symbol on their back. 

"Hey! I'm Keira. I'm here to help you, I work here at this station. Can you move? Focus on me." I directed as the guard shook their head, struggling beneath the pile of rubble. I pull away two small piles of wood off them, groans and yelps erupting from the agent. "S-sorry!" I apologise as soon they were free.

I extend an arm to help them up, which they took. I hoisted them up. "It seems like your friends are okay, do you know why this happened? Can I ask why this train was here?" I questioned them as they shook their head, fear still present on their face. 

"I'm Agent Carys..., I work for S.H.I.E.L.D. I cannot tell you why we are here, but you need to get out. Now. Please, leave before another attack happens." They pleaded, drawing out their gun again, shooting their head in different directions, searching for another threat. Their gaze met mine again, not before their eyes widened in shock. "Ah, on second guess, go to the hospital. You look like crap, go now!" They urged, pushing me towards the exit of the building, which was still intact. 

Outside, I stumble out, limping towards the parking lot. There, armed guards surround the building, officer ushering members of the public away from the area. Sirens screaming about the threat. What the fuck is going on? There were more of those armed guards. They littered the street. Spotting me, a female guard rushed over and dragged me away from the building. 

"TEAM! WE HAVE A SURVIVOR! GET THE AMBULANCE OVER HERE!" The officer called, shoving me into the bench and forcing me to sit down. "What's your name, officer?" She interrogated, looking over my wounds, which I was helplessly bleeding from.

"Keira Johnstone... I work in that station," I told her breathlessly, throwing my head back in agony.The Katanas and machetes dug into my skin, burning away at the flesh that remained. Acid flowed through my veins, causing me to scream out in agony as I moved.

"All right, Miss Johnstone. I am Agent Maria Hill, I work for S.H.I.E.L.D., take deep breaths. You will be okay. The medics are coming soon. Can you tell me what happened when you were in there? Take your time." She spoke, looking down at me with a soft smile, trying to keep me calm.

"T-Thank you. I... was doing my usual guard duty, dispatching trains as usual. Half an hour ago, that black train came in with your guards. Then one of my colleagues went to the end of the platform and when I approached, that explosion went off. I can't remember much. I'm really sorry." I tried to explain to her. The temperature decreased, sending a chill throughout my acidic, paining body.

"Okay, thank you. I'm afraid we must send you home for now. Could you please give me your number so I can contact you again? There has been some weird things happening in that station. I was hoping you could help us figure it out. S.H.I.E.L.D. has been watching." She spoke, taking a few cloths from the medics who arrived, applying pressure to the visible wounds. "This will hurt." 

And sure hell it did. 

Three hours later, I arrive home, bandages caked over my body, wrapped around like I was a mummy. My lungs burned as I breathed, causing me to cough every so often. Seems like that station won't be open for the next few months. Yay. Entering my home, a panicked Lavender rushed over to me, a river of tears running down her face as she spotted me. 

"KEIRA! THERE THE FUCK YOU ARE! HOLY SHIT. I THOUGHT YOU WERE A GONER!" She exclaimed, engulfing me into a hug. "Don't scare me like that again. Get upstairs, change clothes and lie the fuck down. You need rest." She commanded, pushing me inside and tossing clean clothes onto me, causing me to wince.

"All right, all right. I will."

"ALSO, NO GAMES AND NO WORK TOMORROW! YOU NEED TO REST!"

"But can I go to a museum, instead? Please?" 

"I'll think about it! You can fuel your train fantasy later!"


	4. Chapter 4 - Who?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On her way out with Jessica, Keira meets a crowded individual, not knowing why he was so popular. Until realisation strikes her, she is asked to go on a mission. Why is that?

Lavender had brought up cups of coffee and pain killers over the past couple of hours, always asking if I was okay and begging for me to ask what happened. Once or twice she had questioned if I am actually an avenger, to which I told her no. The room was dark and comfortable, reassuring void of darkness, wrapping around me once again like warmth. The duvet laid on top of me, hugging my body with strength, making sure I didn't move a muscle. Every movement sent blades and waves of pain throughout my body. My skin tingled in agony, like ants running along the surface of my skin. 

Soft moonlight glints through cracks in my blinds, reflecting off posters and occasional pieces of paper dotted on the ground. Specks of stars shine with brilliant lights, sparkling and dancing within a ball. The walls held shelves of books and diaries from when I was a kid, holding nostalgic memories which I felt I might need later. 

A breath of relaxation runs through my mouth and into the air, content of the situation I brought myself into, now I had no more work, where else am I supposed to get my money from? As if my phone heard me, a ping emits from it, a blinding beam of light shines from the device, causing a flash of white to fill my vision as I reach over and retrieve it. Once my eyes adjusted, I clicked on an email from my boss. John. 

"Hey Keira, It's John. 

I had heard about the incident in Copel City. After hearing the station will be in severe repair, I have given you and the other staff sick pay and will continue to for the next few months. You have done incredible work; I am very pleased with what you have done for us. So you will get extra as a thank you. I hope you and your family are doing well after this, please contact me if there is anything you need.

Get well soon,

John."

I could help but smile at the email, the love and concern he has for his staff is amazing. I close my phone before setting it to the side, staring up at the ceiling, relived at the now increased pay. Closing my eyes, slumber soon takes over my body, dragging me into sleep, begging me to fast-forward to the next day.

In the morning, I sat at the dinner table, gulping down eggs and bacon as I occasionally glance up at Lavender. Clangs, clicks and bangs come from Lavender as she moves pots and pans around, splashing in the sink, attempting to wash the cutlery inside. Water flows over the side of the sink as Lavender plants the dishes in the drying wrack. The delicious aroma of the food wafts into my nose, my mouth watering at the scent. Smooth and squishy eggs flop off my fork as I attempt to grab them. The eggs fled as if I was a monster trying to kill them. I was in battle.

"So, Keira. Did you say you wanted to go to that museum the other day?" Lavender questioned, sparking interest in me, perking up like a dog.

"Yeah! I wanted to check it out as I've heard they have added some new things to the exhibits.. When can we go?" I ask, finishing and wiping down my plate, rushing over to the sink and dunking it into the water; splashing both me and Lavender.

"Well, if you get a new shirt and a pair of shoes and a jacket on, then we can go now." She smiled cheerfully, encouraging me to grab the items. 

Grabbing them, I eagerly threw them onto my feet and around my shoulders, disregarding the pain hissing from my mouth. "Jesus, Keira. Slow down!" Jessica exclaimed, rushing over and aiding me with my jacket. "There we go, lets go! You know that man you saw on sunday?" She added, a smile forming on her face.

"Yeah, I do. Why?" I asked, entering the kitchen and resting my phone in my pocket, zipping it up. 

"Well, two of your colleges have messaged me, I had contacted them if you didn't mind, and they have said they saw him near the museum, so maybe you could talk to him again? Did you speak to him again on Tuesday?" I shook my head, folding my arms across my chest. 

"Not really, I only said hi to him and that's all. He didn't bother to take notice of me. I think he was searching for that steam train, but left when he didn't find it. The staff said he hasn't been back since." I said, sighing at the thought the man could be in harm. That I could've made him afraid to come back. 

"Don't kick yourself for it, we can go now and see if we can find him. I won't really assist you as it may overwhelm him." She told me as we left the house, down the barren streets. Her reassurance lingered through the air as I nod, taking in the information.

Quite a few cars drove past on the walk to the museum in the centre of the city, purring past like a cat before screeching off into the distance, scaring the skeletons out of me and my sister. The scruffs of our feet crunches the gravel beneath, creating satisfying sounds harmonising with our ears. We weave in and out of people as the streets soon pack with people. Posters of superhero-looking individuals hung on the side of buildings, praising their inspiring work. Never in my life have I seen a superhero. The closest I have seen is S.H.I.E.L.D.. 

On our way down the street, my eyes dart towards a group of people, screaming and shoving papers into the face of a stout man who was struggling to push people away from dog-piling on top of him. Muscles on the male bulge as he shields his face before shouting at them to back off. That scared them. Watching two scurry off, the male sighed with relief, combing his hand through his dirty blond hair. Placing my hand in front of Lavender, I approach the male.

"Hey! I'm officer Johnstone, I work at the nearby police station. Are you okay? Were those people giving you any trouble?" I question, receiving a smile from him and a dismissive wave.

"Ma'am, I've dealt with worse. These fans are nothing compared to things I do for my job. Thank you for the concern, miss." The male thanked me, chuckling at my concern I gave him. 

"What's your job?" I asked, not understanding who this person is.

"Keira, do you not know who this guy is?!" Lavender exclaimed in shock, gaining a confused glance from the male.

"Uh... no?" I respond.

"That's CAPTAIN freaking AMERICA dude! One of the avengers!" Lavender exclaimed. The male awkwardly waved, shifting his weight to the other foot. 

"You can call me Steve, for short. I don't really enjoy being called 'Captain America' when being addressed. But yes, I'm an avenger. I'm surprised you haven't heard of me." 

My mouth fell, forming an "Oh" as I nod, glancing off at the building in the distance. "Okay... sorry to be bummer but can we get moving now?" I sigh in disbelief, getting an urgent nod from Lavender. 

"Oh! Yeah. Sorry, Steve. My sister has been through a lot in the past few days. We are tracking a guy she saw in the station, also trying to keep her occupied as she had lost her job, basically." Lavender blurted out, earning a glare from me. 

"LAVENDER! I THOUGHT THIS STAYED BETWEEN US!" I scream at her, throwing my hands into the air, anger boiling within me, Satan himself fuelling the fire burning deep within. 

Lavender went quiet at my sudden yelling, making her back up as she knew pissing me off won't do us good. Turning on my heels, the man approached, tapping me on the shoulder, spinning me around to face him. 

"You saw a man... in the station?" The moment turned into an interrogation. 

I nod. 

"What does he look like?" He asked.

I glance at Lavender to save my ass. Now anxiety fed off my anger, my body urged towards the building, getting away from the moment I needed to escape.

"He wore a hat, red shirt and had a beard if that helps?" Steve nodded, clicking his fingers. 

"If it isn't any bother for you, could I join you two to the museum?" He asked. We couldn't say no.

"All right, let's go!" I cheer, leading them towards the museum towering in the distance. Hoards of people gathered around shops, shoving their money into packed shops, begging for the merchandise which they had admired from the window. Much like the train station, the groups were pushing and shoving each other into walls and the doorway, hoping to grab their own spotlight. Idiots.

The other shops didn't seem too fancy either. Children screamed, throwing tantrums, screeching for things to go their way. Many people stared at me and Lavender in a plea, begging for us to assist the situation. Helpless teenagers stand around with their parents, tapping away at their phones as their entitled parents beg for the cheapest price. One or two even walked away. 

Up close, the building stood impressive. The bright, welcoming light urged citizens inside, dragging in people to check out its exhibits. The entrance arched above, towering over us as we all entered the building. Inside, the staff welcomed us with cheerful smiles, encouraging us to check out the new exhibit. The ceiling towered high with an enormous cavity, chandeliers dangled from the ceiling, as multiple people marvelled at its beauty. Gold and silver coated the walls of the building, taking in the breathtaking paintings and murals. Children's cheers and adults laughter emerge from a certain exhibit, showing off an old video of the wright brothers. I didn't know what the video was showing, but it was less interesting of what my goal for today was.

Scanning the crowd, we search for the mysterious man; checking everyone's head for the same hat and outfit the man wore a few days prior. Standing next to me, Lavender thought out loud.

"Steve, you wanted to come with us, why?" She questioned, approaching an exhibit which explained the history of a painting called Mona Lisa. 

Steve sighed, sharing a glance at me before looking at her. "I'm here to find a friend, someone who matches the description you gave me." He explained. 

"Wait, what? The man was in the station? What happened before which made him to to the station?" I asked, Steve shook his head. 

"I'm afraid... I can't tell you. It's a really long story. All I will say is that he needs help and I'm one of the few people who can help him." He added on sadly, heading off to the new exhibit as I tagged along promptly. Lavender stayed put. 

"Keira, go with him. He might need your help. I believe in you!" She calls out with a smile, setting me free to run with Captain America. 


	5. Chapter 5 - Museum critics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Keira are split up in the museum, searching for the mysterious person. When she runs into a female, she uncovers some information which gives her a lead. She doesn't need to look any further now...

Thousands of antique paintings, weapons, clothes, pottery, posters and newsletters covered the walls and glass cabinets of the museum. Golden walls shimmering throughout as if we were entering a prized room, a room which held priceless possessions. I felt like an imposter, unworthy of seeing such beautiful things, staring at the things that generations of people once held in pride.

Steve lead the way through two people, past historical exhibits and into a new exhibit, based on the war and his era. Why was he leading me through here? My breath soon left my lungs, trailing behind Steve, who was running much faster than me. I stopped next to the beginning of the new exhibit, staring down the lack of people who were only arriving. Inspired and interested faces stared at the walls, taking in the information that lingered.

The hall comprised a history of S.H.I.E.L.D., Captain America, his friend and his actions in the war. Why was this guy famous? Why is the avengers such a big deal? One person approached from my right, approaching the wall and inspecting it carefully. It was a male, not the one who I was searching for. I let out a soft sigh, turning and walking down the hall, stare at the lit up shelves that hung uniforms and rifles that the soldiers had used.

One part caught my attention, a military uniform next to Captain America's information. There, something etched three long paragraphs into the wall, explaining about his best friend. The one named 'Bucky Barnes' who was he? Reading the text, I slightly smiled, the information of a typical friendship resonating through the air, next to me a female approached, standing beside me.

"It's sad he had died, though... but it's really brave that he had given his life along with the others. I'm sad that few people recognise that. Yeah, his friend, Steve got most of the attention, but it sounds like Bucky became like an outcast." I spoke to the woman who was nodding along, listening to my spiel as if I was her best friend.

"I prefer Steve though, he had risked his life in many H.Y.D.R.A. Bases from it says on here." The woman added, gesturing to the H.Y.D.R.A. Information.

"You know the government, though. They don't always give the true story. What other stuff did Bucky do alongside Steve? There is barely anything here, if I was to say anything, it's that they're being extremely biased." I said, defending the person I had barely any knowledge about.

Behind, a new face appeared, staring at the information in front of me, and the woman were observing and discussing. I step to the side, allowing the newcomer to observe, ignoring who they were as I was searching for a specific person. "Hey, dude. Sorry to appear as random, but what's your opinion on him? Do you agree he should get more recognition than what he has here?" I comment, the woman turned around to watch the person. A soft, gruff huff comes from the person, now guessing to be male.

"Bias. He did more than just be friends with Steve." The male commented, the voice igniting a memory. The same voice from a few days ago. I glance behind me to see the same man there. Lavender was right. He would be here. How did my colleagues get that information?

"Like what? I'm interested." I commented, stepping back from the wall which faded from gold to black, now displaying more information, now Steve took over the wall.

"He helped him through times others never did... when things went south, he had him. Bucky was a massive part of Steve's life, the reason he joined the army. They have been friends since childhood. I heard what you said about him. I agree, he was an outcast... he barely got recognition. All we knew him for was falling off a goddamn bridge." He spoke, anger flowing in at the end. He didn't seem to recognise me. Was that good?

"I... agree." I spoke softly, nodding along with him as I looked over at him. "What brings you here?" I ask. "To this... new exhibit? You don't seem you are from this area." He glanced at me, as if to stare for a moment before the same switch forced him to step back for a moment. I spoke too soon.

"It's you..." He mumbled. His head hung low upon recognition, staring at the floor before glancing up again. "Why are you here? Why are you following me?" He questioned, becoming more demanding.

My body froze as the words from Lavender echoed in my mind. The reassurance from the day after... the things that I had learnt. I had to use these. I have to talk to him if I don't want him to run away again.


End file.
